The guns are back and the thugs are back. Arson is back, pointing to journalists, broken glass is back. A large, bald, bearded and well-preserved man was addressing a tall and myopic man, bearded and not much preserved. The first would open his shirt as in Raza and then turn around and show the back of his neck so that the other or his Basque friends would shoot him. The kid had gone to defend a commemorative stamp. The big man, to Spain.
The one who did not leave returns and returns The life of Brian and his Popular Judaic Front, Popular Front of Judea or Popular Union. The left is so sectarian that one always ends up sticking the same ice ax in the eye. It's all a conspiracy, it's all with me or against me. And insults are insulted outside and inside all the places where Life does not circulate: on the networks, in parliaments, on the radio. And men with beards and racial ladies come out insulting and people in purple T-shirts with phrases that no one reads anymore, and as the World Cup begins and night falls in Ukraine.
New scenario: nothing will happen outside of our mobile. Ballot boxes and palaces will burn and adversaries will be assassinated inside the iPhone and there will be no pain inside or outside the virtual world. A big man opens his jacket and makes noise and we all echo him. What is he talking about? Where has he come from? And one thinks that with him, as with the bullies on the other side, the best weapon is to laugh at them. Because of how ridiculous they are. Because of how affected, mannered, exaggerated and confused they are.
Armies and politics defeat the enemies of democracy, but those who lock the beast in the basement are laughter and intelligence, kindness, law and jokes. Fascism was locked up by Loren and Mastroianni by hanging some sheets. To Hitler, Normandy and Lubitsch, and Gila did more against Franco than the gauche divine drinking gin and tonics at Bocaccio.